Dream a Dream of Days Gone By
by SouthernChickie
Summary: An accident sparks an unusual dream for Duncan. Complete.
1. Reality part 1

Disclaimers: Don't own, don't sue. Please review.  
  
Dream a Dream of Days Gone By  
  
"Richie, get down from there," Duncan laughed, looking up at the youth who was climbing yet higher on the ladder he had set up in the store.  
  
"I can almost reach," he insisted, stretching as much as he could, trying to reach the dust bunny village that had taken up residence in the recessed ceiling.  
  
"Be careful," Duncan warned. "If you can't reach, you can't reach."  
  
"Yeah, yeah." Richie grumbled good-naturedly.  
  
Duncan smiled and rolled his eyes before retreating into the office. Richie bit his bottom lip and stretched a little more. Maybe he could reach if he put one foot on the catwalk. He shifted his weight slightly and reached his foot toward the catwalk. The change of weight combined with the shift of where the weight was placed made the ladder totter dangerously. Unfortunately, Richie's position prevented him from being able to catch himself when, in slow motion, the ladder tipped over.  
  
In the office, Duncan heard a yelp, followed by a crash, scream, and a heavy thud. Duncan dropped the files he was holding and raced into the store. Richie was lying unmoving on the floor, his head resting on the fallen ladder.  
  
"Richie!" he nearly screamed, kneeling next to him.  
  
"What happened?" Tessa asked curiously coming in from her workshop.  
  
"Call an ambulance!"  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Richie fell."  
  
"What?!" She rounded the display case and gasped at the sight before her. "How high up was he?"  
  
"I don't know; he was reaching for the ceiling."  
  
Tessa ran for the office and snatched up the cordless phone. She came up behind Duncan and relayed messages from the operator. "Don't move him. check his pulse. how's his color?"  
  
Ten minutes later the paramedics arrived. They carefully moved the ladder from beneath Richie after stabilizing his neck. Then they placed him on a backboard and then secured him to a stretcher. Finally they wheeled him to the ambulance. Tessa got in with them and Duncan followed in the car.  
  
They waited for almost two hours as the doctors ordered a CAT scan and a battery of tests.  
  
"Mr. MacLeod?" a doctor asked, coming into the waiting room. Duncan and Tessa stood up and met him half way across the room.  
  
"How is he?" Duncan asked quickly.  
  
"He's stable," the doctor told them. "He's in his room."  
  
"Is he awake?"  
  
"Not yet. He took a pretty hard knock to the head. He has a couple stitches; the wound is very minor compared to what happened. There is no evidence of any brain trauma, so all we can do is wait for him to wake up."  
  
"Can we see him?" Tessa asked anxiously.  
  
"Of course." The doctor turned and led them down the hall. "We have him set up in a private room. We're not sure how long until he wakes up but we have him set up with an IV drip to keep him hydrated and it has some nutrients to keep him up to snuff. Here we are." He opened a room door. "He's not going to be very interesting for a while yet, but if you want, I don't see why you can't stay as long as you like."  
  
"Thank you," Tessa said.  
  
"You seem like the type that refuses to leave. If he wakes up, press the nurse call button. Someone will be in to check on him every ninety minutes." With that the doctor left them with a very quiet, very unconscience Richie lying unmoving in the hospital bed.  
  
Tessa immediately went to the chair closest to the bed and sat down, taking Richie's slack hand in her own. "Richie, wake up," she told him quietly brushing some hair out of his face. "It's time to wake up."  
  
Duncan pulled up a chair on the other side of the bed and took the boy's other hand. "Come on, tough-guy," he urged wondering why they were whispering.  
  
"He looks so helpless," Tessa commented.  
  
"He'll be fine. The doctor said there was no major damage. All he has to do is wake up and he'll be home in no time," Duncan assured her.  
  
"It's a miracle he's not hurt worse than he is." She continued stroking his hair.  
  
"He's a survivor; he'll be good as new in no time."  
  
No time was much longer than Duncan expected. Three days later there was no change. The doctor's couldn't find anything wrong other than Richie just refused to wake up. Tessa and Duncan took turns going home and staying by the boy's side the entire time. For some reason on the third night Tessa couldn't bring herself to leave so they decided to both stay.  
  
Half way through the night something woke Tessa. She opened her eyes and looked into a pair of bright blue ones staring at her.  
  
"You're awake," she whispered shifting in her seat to stroke his cheek. He seemed confused by the touch but didn't refuse it. "Duncan," she said a little louder. "Wake up."  
  
For the first time, Richie noticed the man sitting on his other side. He had been too busy staring at the beautiful woman holding his hand to look anywhere else. The man moaned and stretched and then suddenly seemed to perk up at the site of the conscious teen.  
  
"You're awake," he said gratefully, sitting up a little straighter.  
  
"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Richie asked turning his attention back to Tessa and giving her a charming grin.  
  
Before anyone could answer a nurse quietly snuck into the room. "He's awake," she realized suddenly.  
  
"There you go again," Richie complained, still smiling at Tessa.  
  
"I'll get the doctor," the nurse said scurrying out of the room.  
  
"Hey, can I ask you guys a question?" Richie asked suddenly.  
  
"Sure, tough guy, what is it?" Duncan asked.  
  
Richie took a deep breath. "Who are you?"  
  
"What?" Duncan asked flatly.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"Is this your idea of joke?" Duncan demanded.  
  
"Duncan, he's serious," Tessa said, looking into the unrecognizing eyes looking back at her.  
  
"My name is Tessa; this is Duncan."  
  
"Oh, okay," Richie seemed entirely pleased with the answer and didn't question anything else.  
  
"What's your name?" Tessa asked.  
  
Richie opened his mouth to answer but stopped and closed it again. He furrowed his brow and thought hard but couldn't come up with the answer. "There are a lot of names up here," he said running his fingers through his hair. "But I don't know which one's mine."  
  
"Do you know where you are. besides the hospital?" Duncan asked.  
  
"Um. no?"  
  
"What state?"  
  
"No?"  
  
"Do you know what day it is?"  
  
"Tuesday," Richie answered promptly.  
  
"Friday," Duncan corrected.  
  
"Damn, thought I had one."  
  
"Had one what?" the doctor asked coming into the room. "I see you're awake. Any pain?"  
  
"My head hurts a little," Richie admitted.  
  
"We can fix that. Any double vision? Blurry vision? Dizziness?"  
  
"Good, nope, nope, and nope," Richie answered.  
  
"Any problems at all?"  
  
"He can't remember anything!" Duncan blurted out before Richie had a chance to answer.  
  
The doctor nodded. "Not entirely uncommon. He did go down pretty hard."  
  
"Is there anything we can do?" Tessa asked.  
  
"Well, baring any complications, I don't see why he can't go home tonight." The doctor started checking Richie's vitals. "We'll run some tests of course, but I doubt anything will come up. Familiar surroundings usually help. Sometimes a place or object will trigger memories to come back and sometimes they come back on their own. We'll just have to see. I strongly doubt this is permanent."  
  
"So we can take him home?" Tessa asked.  
  
"I live with you guys?" Richie asked with a slight grin, looking Tessa up and down.  
  
"Yes," Duncan answered, giving him a look that told him he saw him checking Tessa out.  
  
"Cool." Richie shrugged noncommittally and looked back at the doctor.  
  
"Can we just tell him? Would that help?" Duncan asked, trying to hide an amused smile as the teen shrank from his stare.  
  
"If he asks questions. Don't give him his life history, but tell him what he asks." The doctor made some notes on Richie's chart. "I'll go get you something for your headache and be right back."  
  
"So, what do you want to know?" Tessa asked.  
  
"Tessa," Richie said looking at her before turning his gaze to the immortal. "Duncan."  
  
He nodded. "That's right."  
  
"So what's my name?"  
  
"Richie," Duncan answered. "Ryan."  
  
"Richie Ryan," Richie repeated. "How very alliterated."  
  
Duncan smiled. This could prove to be interesting.  
  
Six hours later, Duncan was signing Richie's release forms. "Let's get you home, shall we?" he asked walking along side the orderly that was pushing Richie's wheel chair.  
  
"Where's that?" Richie asked.  
  
"You'll see."  
  
The ride home was almost silent as Richie anxiously looked at the scenery every now and then. However, he'd ask random questions as they drove.  
  
"What kind of food do I like?" he asked, as they passed one of his favorite pizza parlors.  
  
"Food," Duncan answered and Tessa giggled.  
  
"Huh?" Richie asked from the backseat, not getting the joke.  
  
"You eat almost anything," Duncan clarified. "You very rarely refuse to eat something."  
  
"Oh. Do I have a job?" He looked at the men in suits standing outside a department store on a cigarette break.  
  
"You work for us," Tessa told him. "We run an antique store."  
  
"That doesn't sound very exciting," Richie commented.  
  
"With you there everything is exciting."  
  
"So. I live with you and work for you."  
  
"Right."  
  
"Are you my parents?"  
  
Tessa nearly choked on nothing and Duncan almost missed the stoplight. "Um. no," Duncan finally answered. "Just good friends."  
  
"Did you know my parents?"  
  
"Um. no."  
  
Richie frowned into the rearview mirror. "Hum. weird," he muttered.  
  
"Here we are!" Tessa announced as they pulled into the alley behind the store.  
  
"We live here?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Hum. okay." Richie slid out of the car before Tessa could move the seat for him to get out through the door.  
  
"How are you feeling?" Duncan asked as he led him into Tessa workshop.  
  
"I'm okay," he shrugged pausing in front of one of Tessa sculptures. "This doesn't look very antiquie," he said.  
  
"That's because it's not even finished yet," Tessa told him. "I'm an artist."  
  
"You did that?" She nodded. "Cool."  
  
"Are you hungry?" Duncan asked, taking Richie up the stares to the loft.  
  
"Yeah. Hospital food sucks."  
  
"I have an idea!" Tessa rushed ahead of them into the kitchen and reached into the drawer of takeout menus. She grabbed a handful and put them on the table. "These are your favorite restaurants," she explained. "Why don't you look through those and pick one out. We'll order out for dinner."  
  
"Okay," Richie said distractedly, as his eyes danced around the loft.  
  
"Why don't you do this first," Duncan suggested guiding Richie to the chair in front of the menus. "Tessa can show you around while I go get dinner."  
  
"Okay." Richie reluctantly sat and looked through the papers. After a couple minutes he decided on Italian. He told Duncan what he wanted and Duncan assured him that he liked it before taking Tessa's order as well.  
  
"So you've seen the kitchen," Tessa started taking both of Richie's hands and pulling him up as soon as Duncan left. "This is the living room," she guided him into the room. "You like to sit in here and watch TV with the volume turned way up just to annoy Duncan."  
  
Richie smiled. "How thoughtful of me."  
  
"This is our room," Tessa continued the tour.  
  
"Our room?" Richie choked out looking at the romantically decorated master bedroom.  
  
Tessa smiled and blushed. "Not yours and mine," she corrected. "Mine and Duncan's. You don't come in here often," she told him. "I'm sure you'll remember why soon enough." She blushed again.  
  
"And this. is your room." She opened the door to the dirty laundry littered room. Richie stepped in and looked around.  
  
"I'm not a very neat person, am I?"  
  
"No, but its part of your charm. You like to listen to your radio with the volume way up to annoy Duncan. And you always lock your door when you do it and pretend to not hear him when he yells at you."  
  
"Do I not like him?" Richie asked.  
  
"Oh, no. You like him. You just like to annoy him as well, that's all."  
  
"Oh. Okay."  
  
For the next twenty minutes, Richie wondered around the apartment and store periodically asking Tessa questions. Nothing triggered a memory.  
  
"I hope this isn't as hopeless as it feels," Richie mumbled as they sat down to dinner.  
  
"I'm sure you'll remember everything soon," Duncan assured him. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"My head hurts again," Richie admitted. "And I'm getting kinda tired," he added.  
  
Duncan and Tessa glanced at each other. It was strange having a Richie that admitted when he was hurt or tired without being pushed into saying it. "How about after dinner, you go to bed?" Tessa offered. "Maybe some sleep will help."  
  
"And I got your prescription filled," Duncan added. "So we can solve both problems."  
  
"Thanks," Richie said with a tired smile before turning his attention back to his tortilini fromagi.  
  
An hour after Richie had gone to bed Duncan and Tessa gave in as well.  
  
"I hope this doesn't last long," Tessa sighed as she settled into Duncan's arms.  
  
"The doctor said it probably isn't permanent. He'll be fine. This is Richie we're talking about. He's too stubborn to not remember."  
  
Tessa laughed lightly and gave Duncan a kiss before closing her eyes and giving into sleep. Duncan spent a few minutes wondering what this experience might reveal about Richie and his life before he met Tessa and himself. Duncan fell asleep with no idea what his simple thought 'Maybe we'll find out about his childhood' had triggered in his imagination. 


	2. Dream part 1

AN: First I need to mention my wonderful Beta, Lori. Who named the story and who gave me the web-site addy that inspired this fic. The story is "All our Yesterdays" by MRiley99. I'll send you the url if you e-mail me.  
  
Also, just so no one complains. I am perfectly aware that in 1978 Duncan and Tessa hadn't met yet. But this is a dream so I can do whatever I want. Ha! J/K. Just forgive my departure from reality and play along like good little readers. And as always please review!  
  
Duncan woke to Tessa shaking him. "Hurry! Get up!"  
  
"What's wrong?" Duncan asked, watching as she brushed her long golden hair at the vanity.  
  
"Don't play games with me, Duncan MacLeod. I know you're just as excited as I am about this."  
  
Duncan smiled; she was right, as always. Ever since they had discussed their options, he had known this was what he wanted to do. It was a modern solution to his ancient problem. He had showered and had gotten dressed by the time Tessa had finally decided how to do her hair.  
  
"You look perfect," he told her with a grin. "We've already been approved. Now all we have left are the details."  
  
"This is hardly a detail. It's the most important part!" She hugged him warmly despite her scolding and ran her fingers through his short hair. "I can't believe this is happening."  
  
"Me either."  
  
After making a final check on the apartment, they went out for brunch and then window shopping until they could go to the place where their dream would come true.  
  
They rode all the way to their destination in silent anticipation. Tessa repeatedly checked her hair and brushed invisible lint off Duncan's jacket the entire time.  
  
"Are you ready?" he asked, opening the car door for her.  
  
"Nervous," she admitted. "But very ready."  
  
"You must be the MacLeods," the receptionist greeted warmly.  
  
"Yes," Duncan answered.  
  
"You can go out in the yard if you like. Ms. Perkins will meet you shortly."  
  
"Thank you." Duncan and Tessa walked down the short hall and through the double glass doors into the afternoon sun. Children ran all around the play yard unaware of the adults that had entered their domain.  
  
"There're so many," Tessa commented.  
  
"And one will be ours," Duncan told her putting his arm around her shoulders. "Are you sure you want a boy?"  
  
"Yes. I have two younger brothers; I know how to raise boys. Plus you wouldn't know the first thing about raising a girl."  
  
"I could learn."  
  
"Hello," a tall imposing woman said warmly as she approached them. "I'm Michelle Perkins."  
  
"Duncan MacLeod and this is my wife, Tessa." They all shook hands.  
  
"I understand you two want a young boy."  
  
"That's right," Tessa told her.  
  
"How young?"  
  
"Not a baby," Tessa told her. "But not in school yet. Five? Maybe six?"  
  
"Alright. We have a few of those," Ms. Perkins smiled. "Most of the younger ones are there under that tree." She pointed to a large tree that a group of boys had gathered around. "And there are a couple more playing on the jungle gym. Would you like to watch them play or see some videos?"  
  
"Videos?" Duncan asked.  
  
"We have videos of all the children here. You can see them play, sleep, eat, and there's an interview as well."  
  
"You follow the kids around with a video camera?"  
  
"Yes. That way you can look through your choices more efficiently."  
  
"I like the personal touch," Tessa said. "Why don't you tell us about that boy there. The one in the red shirt and overalls." She pointed to a little blonde haired boy who was sitting in the tree the other boys had gathered around.  
  
"That would be Richie, he. he. Oh, for heaven's sake not again." She walked over to the tree with Duncan and Tessa following in her wake. "Gary, how did he get up there?" she demanded of a dark haired boy.  
  
"I don't know," the boy shrugged.  
  
"Richie, you need to come down from there. You could get hurt," she said gently. The little boy looked past her and locked eyes with Tessa. "Richie, Richie! Look at me. Can you get down?"  
  
The boys around the tree started laughing. "The baby can't get down!" one chortled. "What a baby!" another one added. "He's a retard!" a third piped up.  
  
"Andrew!" Ms. Perkins glared fiercely at the young boy. "I will not have such talk here. That is very rude, now apologize to him!"  
  
"I'm sorry, Richie," the boy said obediently.  
  
"Now go sit in the time out chair until I come to get you." The boy turned and left with Ms. Perkins shooting daggers through his back. "I'm terribly sorry. Poor Richie tends to get picked on," she told Duncan and Tessa before turning back to the boy in question. "Richie, can you get down? Do you need me to get Mr. Farmer?" Richie looked down at her from his perch in the tree without saying a word. Finally, he reached his short arms in Duncan's direction.  
  
"He wants you to get him down," Tessa whispered nudging him forward. "Go get him."  
  
"No, Mr. MacLeod. I'll send one of the kids to get Mr. Farmer and a ladder. There's no need for you to."  
  
"I'll get him," Duncan assured her as he walked past. "Hi, Richie," he said quietly as he pulled himself onto the lowest tree branch. "How'd you get up here, tough guy?" he asked as he maneuvered through the branches.  
  
"How did he get up there?" Ms. Perkins asked the boys who were watching.  
  
"The big kids did it," a little girl said from amid the crowd of boys. "I don't think he wanted to, though."  
  
"Of course he didn't want to. Now which big kids?"  
  
"I don't know. They were real big, though."  
  
Ms. Perkins sighed. "I'll have to talk to them. again."  
  
"Does this happen often?" Tessa questioned.  
  
"He's mute," Ms. Perkins explained. "Doesn't make a sound. The older kids like to hide him where he can't get out and see how long until someone finds him. This is really getting out of hand. He could get hurt up there."  
  
"Yes, he could," Duncan said slowly climbing down the tree with the boy on his back. "I'd like to have a word with the kids who did this."  
  
"Richie," Ms. Perkins took the small boy and held him in her arms for a minute. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Richie looked at her for a minute with his head cocked to one side. "Do you have a boo-boo?" she tried. Finally understanding what she meant, he pointed at a scrape on his elbow. "Let's get you cleaned up, okay?" She turned to Duncan. "Thank you so much. You really didn't have to get him down."  
  
"It wasn't a problem."  
  
"I'm terribly sorry. I need to get him to the nurse. I'll be right back." She left and Richie watched them with curious eyes as he was carried into the building.  
  
"I want that one," Tessa told Duncan.  
  
"Which one?" Duncan asked confusedly.  
  
"Richie. I want him. I can't leave him here with those kids picking on him and putting him in trees."  
  
"Are you sure? He seems like he'd be a lot of work. What if he fell down? How would you find him?"  
  
"Even deaf babies make noise, Duncan. Besides, he's so cute. And he wanted you to go get him."  
  
"He just knew I was the only one big enough."  
  
"See? He's smart. He might need a special school; they won't send him," Tessa appealed to Duncan's sense of honor. "He won't get what he needs here."  
  
Duncan grinned. "I was hoping you would say that. I want him, too. You should have seen the look he gave me when I got to him. We'll tell Ms. Perkins when she gets back."  
  
They watched the kids playing in the yard until a bell rang. All the older kids groaned and rolled their eyes as they abandoned their games of basketball or soccer to go into the building. A few orphanage workers gathered up the little kids and led them into the building as well. Duncan and Tessa followed.  
  
"What's going on?" Duncan asked a young man who was leading a group of eight-year-olds down the hall.  
  
"Lunch," he answered.  
  
"Oh. Thank you."  
  
"There you are!" Ms. Perkins came up behind them.  
  
"Is he okay?" Tessa asked.  
  
"He's fine. Nothing some pudding won't cure. He's a little boy; they get bumped and bruised on a regular basis. Now would you like to."  
  
"We've made our decision," Duncan interrupted.  
  
Ms. Perkins looked shocked. "Already? Are you sure? Maybe you should see some videos first."  
  
"We want Richie."  
  
"The boy in the tree?" Her shock did not disappear.  
  
"Yes. We want him," Tessa said.  
  
"I'm not questioning your decision, but he's a little. difficult to take care of."  
  
"Nothing we can't handle," Tessa assured her.  
  
"Let's talk in my office." Ms. Perkins led them down the hall and around the corner. "Take a seat. Now, I understand your intentions are honorable, but Richie might not be a good choice."  
  
"I don't care if he can't talk, he still needs what we can give him," Tessa said resolutely.  
  
"He can't talk and he's on the underdeveloped side. How old do you think he is?"  
  
Duncan and Tessa looked at each other. "Three? Maybe four," Duncan answered.  
  
"He's nearly five."  
  
"He's so small!" Tessa didn't hide her surprise.  
  
"If you want to take Richie, there will be some extra expenses. He's too small for a bed. If he should fall out, he could seriously hurt himself. He needs a car seat as well. At least for another year, maybe longer depending on his growth."  
  
"Expenses are not a problem," Duncan said sternly. "We can get him whatever he needs."  
  
"He wets the bed," Ms. Perkins added. "But he can't do anything to tell you. He just lays there."  
  
"So we'll check on him," Tessa answered.  
  
"He doesn't understand half of what is said to him."  
  
"We'll teach him sign language."  
  
"He likes to take off his clothes."  
  
"So let him. He's just expressing himself. As long as he's at home, it doesn't matter what he does or doesn't wear."  
  
"But in public."  
  
"We'll keep him dressed."  
  
"He likes to wonder off."  
  
"We'll get a stroller."  
  
"He can't talk and he can't understand."  
  
"We'll take him to a specialist," Tessa said triumphantly. There was no way she was leaving without legal rights to that little boy.  
  
"Fine," Ms. Perkins said. "There is no legal way for me to keep you from adopting him. By your file, I know that you have the means to take care of him. But I'm warning you, the last thing that little boy needs is to be sent back because it didn't work out."  
  
"He won't be coming back," Tessa said firmly.  
  
"Alright. It will take a few days to get the papers sorted out. In the mean time you need to get his room ready. He needs a crib, car seat, and booster chair, and they all need to be approved before he can stay with you. You have a week to get it all done."  
  
"You can come by tomorrow evening to inspect us," Tessa said standing up. "We will have it all by then."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
The shelves were full of books and stuffed animals. The toy chest was full of action figures, toy cars, and a remote controlled motorcycle that Duncan had bought on a whim. Next to the book case was a pile of board games: Chutes and Ladders, Candy Land, Barrel Full of Moneys, Hungry Hungry Hippo, High Ho Cherri O!, and Operation. There was a small dresser up against one wall and a drawing desk complete with tons of paper, coloring books and the biggest box of Crayons Tessa could find. Cattycornered in the far corner was a white crib with a small table with a baby monitor on it on one side and a rocking chair on the other. They had brightened up the room with red curtains and brightly painted furniture.  
  
Tessa stood in the doorway. The little boy this room belonged to was due any minute. With a sigh and a smile, she went into the living room where all the breakable things had been place high on the shelves and everything had been scotch-guarded. One of the kitchen chairs had a booster seat strapped to it where her son was going to eat his meals. They had bought lots of fruits, milk, juice, and snack foods for the boy. Along with a couple kids sized place settings and a couple big kid sippy cups.  
  
There was a knock on the door and Tessa's heart leapt into her throat.  
  
"They're here!" she called excitedly into the store. She opened the door as Duncan walked up behind her.  
  
"You order a little kid?" a young man joked holding Richie on his hip.  
  
"Yes, we did," Duncan answered with a smile. "Hi, Richie. Do you remember me?"  
  
Richie grinned slightly and hid behind the stuffed Winnie the Pooh he was holding.  
  
"I have his clothes in the car," the young man said as Tessa took Richie from his arms. "I'll be right back."  
  
"Welcome home, sweetie," Tessa said softly bouncing him on her hip. He smiled and put his head on her shoulder.  
  
"I think he likes you," the orphanage worker said handing Duncan two small suitcases. "He's usually scared of strangers."  
  
"He just knows his mommy when he sees her, that's all," Tessa told him. "Who do you have there? Did you bring a friend with you?" she asked Richie. "Is that Pooh Bear?" He cocked his head to one side and wrinkled his nose.  
  
"That means he doesn't understand," the young man said. "When he does that, he doesn't understand what you've said. If he does understand, he usually finds a way to answer. If you ever catch him standing in his crib when he's supposed to be asleep, he probably has to go to the bathroom. And if he's awake and he has to go, he'll just stare at you."  
  
"You sound like you know him pretty well," Duncan commented.  
  
"His old foster mom figured him out. I was his social worker so I visited often."  
  
"Oh. What does he do if he's hungry or thirsty?" Tessa asked. If hadn't occurred to her before that he had no way to tell her.  
  
"He does this." He held his fingers and thumb together like he was doing a duck shadow puppet and put it to his mouth. "It is sign language for eat, I think. If he wants to eat, then he wants to drink; if he wants to drink, then he wants to eat. Always both. Unless it's naptime. Then he likes to have some milk. If you have a sippy cup he can take it to bed with him. They don't spill."  
  
"Okay, we can handle that. Can't we, tough guy?" Duncan ruffled Richie's short curls. The boy grinned and returned the gesture.  
  
"If you have any questions about him, I'm Mark." He handed him a business card. "You can call me anytime. I'll also baby sit if you ever need it. I specialized in special needs kids in college and am always willing to make an extra buck. Especially with a little guy like him. He's a real charmer."  
  
"Thank you, Mark." Duncan took the card. "We may take you up on that."  
  
"You show them who's in charge," Mark told Richie. "Oh, we almost forgot, didn't we? Show them your tooth."  
  
Richie grinned widely and wiggled his upper left front tooth with his tongue.  
  
"You have a loose tooth!" Tessa exclaimed in exaggerated excitement. "Is that his first one?" she asked Mark.  
  
"Yes it is. He's very excited about the tooth fairy." Mark leaned over to Duncan. "We usually give them a quarter."  
  
"All right. We'll have to make sure she knows you moved, won't we?" Duncan asked Richie who grinned.  
  
"I'd better be going. If you have any questions give me a call."  
  
"We will."  
  
"Bye bye, Richie" Mark leaned to the boy who was still happily perched on Tessa's hip. "Can I have a kiss?" Richie obliged him and waved with all his might as Mark walked to the car and drove away.  
  
"Well, tough guy, what do you want to do?" Duncan asked picking up the small suitcases. "Shall we get you unpacked?"  
  
Tessa began putting Richie's clothes in the dresser and Duncan sat him down in front of the top game on the stack, Operation. After showing him what to do he handed the boy the tweezers and turned the game on. Richie carefully placed his bear next to him and decided to try. On his first attempt at the charley horse, the nose lit up and a loud buzz sounded. Duncan and Tessa jumped; Richie didn't seem to notice. After two more unsuccessful attempts Richie removed the piece from the game.  
  
"Good job!" Duncan smiled broadly and clapped his hands a couple times to demonstrate his pride. Richie grinned and clapped, too. "Try another one." Duncan pointed at the funny bone.  
  
"Oh, look at these!" Tessa nearly squealed. Duncan looked at the blue footy-pajamas she was holding. The feet had bunny heads on the toes and they both had red collars with bells on them. Tessa shook the pajamas and made them jingle.  
  
"We'll be able to keep track on him in those," Duncan commented as Richie made the game buzz. "We'll be able to keep track of him while he plays this too."  
  
After an hour of playing games, it was time for dinner. Tessa cut up a small piece of chicken and put a roll on one of the plates they had bought for Richie as Duncan strapped him into the booster seat. Richie squirmed and tried to get out when Duncan took his bear. Only when the bear had been put in a chair right next to him did Richie stop squirming. Tessa put the plate in front of him and Richie looked at it.  
  
"Maybe he wants something for the chicken," Duncan suggested. "Do you want ketchup?" Richie wasn't looking at him and therefore didn't notice the question. "Richie," Duncan said a little louder tapping the boy's shoulder. "Do you want ketchup?" Richie cocked his head to one side. "This is going to be harder than I thought," he told Tessa.  
  
"No, it won't," she assured him. "Richie!" she called catching the boy's attention. "Do you want ketchup?" she asked showing him the bottle. He nodded. "See? No problem." She squirted a little onto the plate and Richie began eating.  
  
Duncan and Tessa joined him talking to each other and every now and then saying something to the little boy who had joined their family. Richie ate everything on his plate and told them he wanted more using the same gesture Mark had used. Tessa cut up some more chicken and put it on his plate.  
  
"Do you want ketchup?" she asked not showing him the bottle. He cocked his head to one side and looked at her for a second before nodding. "See? He's very smart. He's learning already." She rewarded him with a kiss and more ketchup. Richie once again finished his food and signaled for more.  
  
"You're still hungry?" Tessa asked two servings later. "Where do you put it all?" Richie had eaten as much chicken as she had and two rolls.  
  
"Give him something sweet," Duncan suggested. "Maybe he's expecting dessert."  
  
"How am I supposed to put him to bed after that, hmm?" Tessa inquired.  
  
"Not cake. Try applesauce or strawberries with a little sugar on them." Duncan stood up. "I'll get him something."  
  
After two bowls of applesauce Richie was finally satisfied. Tessa wiped off his face and hands while Duncan cleared the table. "Time for your bath!" Tessa announced picking him up out of the chair and taking his hand. "We'll do it in our tub," she told Duncan. "There's more room."  
  
"I'll be there to help in a minute."  
  
After finishing the dishes Duncan went into their bathroom and found Richie splashing in the water as Tessa tried to wash his hair.  
  
"Are you having fun?" Duncan asked.  
  
"He likes to splash," Tessa informed him wiping water out of her eyes with her wrist since her hands were covered in shampoo. "Sit still," she told him and he stopped. "Close your eyes." He did. She used the detachable showerhead to wash the shampoo out of his hair. "All done!"  
  
Richie opened his eyes and looked at Duncan who had knelt down next to Tessa. With a grin and a mighty kick Richie splashed water onto Duncan's shirt. Duncan smiled and picked Richie up out of the water wrapping him in a big fluffy towel. He dried him off and chased him with the hairdryer while Tessa got his room ready. It took almost ten minutes but Richie was dry and dressed for bed in his blue bunny pajamas. Duncan picked out a book and sat down in the rocking chair with the child in his lap and read the book. By the time he got to 'The End,' Richie was asleep holding onto his Pooh Bear. Slowly Duncan stood up and Tessa helped him put the young boy in the crib. Almost immediately Richie rolled onto his stomach and stuck two fingers in his mouth. After a couple seconds he started rocking his lower body back and forth. Tessa stifled a giggle as she watched the child shake his bottom in his sleep. They stood watching the sleeping child for a few minutes until deciding to go to bed themselves. Tessa snuggled into Duncan's arms and they both fell asleep just as quickly as Richie did. 


	3. Dream part 2

A week later Duncan checked in on Richie before he went to take a shower after his morning jog. When he opened the door he heard the telltale jingle of Richie kicking his feet. Duncan crept closer and Richie jumped to his feet. with the bottom half of his pajamas wet.  
  
"Did you have an accident?" Duncan asked picking the boy up. Richie nodded and put his head on his shoulder. "Something tells me you'll be more than willing to take a nap today," Duncan told him walking to the door. "Tessa, can you come in here?" he called into their room.  
  
"Again?" she asked.  
  
"Do you want to change the kid or the bed?" Duncan asked.  
  
"I'll take Richie."  
  
Duncan handed him over and went to take the sheets off the crib mattress. It was almost a daily task. "Maybe he just can't get out when he needs to go," Duncan said. "He might stand here for twenty minutes and then just can't hold it any longer."  
  
"Oh!" Tessa moaned as she peeled a not only wet, but dirty, pair of pajamas off the boy. "He couldn't hold anything last night." Richie had poop that had leaked out of his superman underwear all over his legs. "I'm going to give him a bath," she announced taking Richie by the hand. "This is disgusting."  
  
Duncan put the sheets in the wash and put the pajamas into the laundry room sink to soak.  
  
"Can you finish this?" Tessa asked when Duncan joined her in the bathroom. "I need to get that sculpture done today."  
  
"You go ahead. I can take care of Richie today. Go get your work done."  
  
Duncan finished washing Richie up and got him dressed. He sat the boy in front of the TV to watch cartoons while he got breakfast ready. He put some water on to boil and began slicing a banana. Once the water was going he poured in some oatmeal and left it to simmer. He poured himself some coffee and Richie some orange juice and got two bowls ready to server breakfast in. The phone rang so Duncan moved the oatmeal off the burner and turned off the stove before going into the living room to answer it. It was an antique dealer who had tracked down a piece he was looking for. As Duncan jotted down the information, he didn't see Richie get up from his seat on the floor and wonder into the kitchen.  
  
Everything smelled so good to the four-year-old. He saw a sliced banana on the table and went to steal a few slices before heading to where the hot stuff came from. He could see the pot that had the oatmeal sitting on an oven mitt and decided he didn't want to wait for Duncan to serve him; he was hungry now. He stood up on his tiptoes and stretched his little arms as far as they could go. He couldn't reach. So he opened the cabinet, which took some pulling because of the child-safety lock, and stepped onto the bottom shelf. He put his hand on what he thought was the counter to pull himself up and screamed at the heat that suddenly shot up his arm. He fell back onto the floor landing on his butt screaming and crying for all he was worth.  
  
At the sound of the child's first scream, Duncan dropped the phone and raced into the kitchen. Richie was sitting on the floor in front of the stove sobbing and waving his right hand in the air. It didn't take four hundred years of living to know what had happened. He snatched Richie up off the floor and started running cold water over his hand that was an off shade of pink.  
  
"What happened!?" Tessa demanded having heard the scream in the workshop.  
  
"He burned himself. Can you get the aloe?" Duncan said as calmly and gently as he could over Richie's screams. "Everything's okay," he assured the injured boy. "I know that hurts, but you're okay. It won't hurt for much longer." He doubted the boy could hear him but continued to speak softly to him as he smeared aloe over the burn and put a bandage on it. For the final touch he gave the hand a gentle kiss before picking Richie up off the counter. "All better," he said gently rocking the still sniffling child in his arms. Richie put his head on Duncan's shoulder and began sucking on two fingers.  
  
"I can't believe this happened," Tessa said softly as she stroked Richie's cheek. "He's falling asleep," she observed.  
  
"Maybe he couldn't sleep because of his clothes. I guess a short nap wouldn't hurt."  
  
"I suppose not. He'll be really tired tonight. Maybe you should try to keep him up for a while still and just put him down a little early."  
  
"That's probably a better idea," Duncan consented. "Maybe I can get him to play a game."  
  
"He should eat first."  
  
"Nothing hot," Duncan decided.  
  
"Duncan, why is the phone off the hook?" Tessa asked as she passed through the living room.  
  
"Oh, is John still on the line?" Duncan asked taking Richie with him into the living room.  
  
"Nobody is there," she said with the phone to her ear.  
  
"I'll call him back tomorrow and tell him we're really not torturing children over here," he decided. "But for now I think someone needs some breakfast."  
  
He sat down at the table with Richie in his lap and offered some banana. Richie took in his left hand and ate it. For breakfast he had a banana and orange juice. It took some trying but Duncan coaxed Richie into a game of Chutes and Ladders after playing the beginnings of a game as both himself and Pooh Bear. He entertained Richie until lunch, where he only ate half of his peanut butter sandwich, then gave in and put him down for a nap. Richie was asleep before his fingers found their way into his mouth.  
  
In the quiet, Duncan cleaned up the game and lunch; all the time re-playing that morning in his mind. There was nothing he could have done short of growing eyes in the back of his head to prevent what had happened. Richie would be okay. The stove had been off and wasn't as hot as it had been. The real disaster would have been if Richie had gotten a hold of the oatmeal.  
  
"How's he doing?" Tessa asked coming in from her workshop.  
  
"He's asleep."  
  
"It's not your fault."  
  
"I know." Duncan sighed. "I just hate that the first noise he made was a scream. I wish he had said something."  
  
"Maybe we should take him to that specialist. The younger he is when this gets sorted out, the more time he has to be normal."  
  
"I'll call before he wakes up. Are you done?"  
  
"Nearly."  
  
"Then get back to work and we'll go out for dinner to celebrate."  
  
"What about Richie?" Tessa asked standing up.  
  
"Him too. He's well behaved. As long as they allow bears in the restaurant he'll be fine." Tessa smiled and gave him a kiss before checking on Richie then going back to work.  
  
That night they went to a nice French restaurant. Richie was well behaved and showed off his injury to the hostess, waiter, and anyone who waived at him when they noticed him staring.  
  
"You're a little attention moocher, aren't you?" Tessa teased as she changed Richie for bed. "As long as you're the center of attention, you're happy."  
  
Richie smiled and tried to run when she turned her back to get his pajamas. She grabbed him around the waist and he squealed. Duncan was immediately in the doorway.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Tessa smiled and tickled the child making him laugh. "He's making noise," she said with a wide grin. "Did you call the doctor?"  
  
"We have an appointment in a week."  
  
"Good." Tessa finished changing Richie and Duncan read him a bedtime story before putting him in his crib.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Storms were common in Seacouver. Duncan didn't even notice the storm until a particularly loud clap of thunder woke him. He looked at Tessa who was still fast asleep and decided to check on Richie before going back to sleep himself. From the hall he could hear the jingle of Richie's blue bunny pajamas.  
  
"Do you have to go to the bathroom?" Duncan asked opening the door. Richie jumped to his feet and held out his arms to be picked up. Duncan went to switch on the lamp on his dresser and by the time he got to Richie the boy had started a 'hurry up and come get me' dance in his crib. "What's the matter with you?" Duncan asked when Richie wrapped his arms tightly around his neck.  
  
Duncan leaned down and picked up the discarded Pooh Bear knowing that once Richie noticed its absence he would throw a fit. Another clap of thunder sounded and Richie yelped and tightened his grip.  
  
"Oh, you're scared of the storm." Duncan started rocking Richie. "It's okay, it's just a noise." He walked out into the living room and paced back and forth trying to calm the child. "How about some juice?" Duncan put Richie down and turned to get a cup. Richie started wailing and doing his 'come get me' dance again. "Okay, okay, no juice."  
  
"What's wrong?" Tessa asked from the hallway wrapping her robe around herself.  
  
"I think he's scared of the storm," Duncan explained picking Richie up again. "He can't stand to be put down. What should we do?"  
  
Tessa thought for a moment. "Maybe he could sleep with us," she suggested. "Did you ever sleep in your parent's room during a storm?"  
  
"I grew up in a one room hut. I slept in my parent's room my whole life," Duncan smiled at her.  
  
"When I was young my parents would let me sleep in their bed after a nightmare or during a storm. Maybe that way we can all get some sleep." She took Richie from Duncan's arms and headed for their room. Duncan trailed behind with the stuffed Pooh in his hand.  
  
They nestled Richie between themselves and, with his arms wrapped tightly around Pooh Bear, he fell asleep quickly.  
  
For the second time that night Duncan woke up, but this time wasn't because of the storm. It took him a second to realize what was wrong, Richie wasn't in bed.  
  
"Tessa!" he shook her awake. "Where's Richie?"  
  
She sat up and looked at the empty spot in the bed that had previously been occupied by a four-year-old boy. "Where can he have gotten to?" she asked climbing out of the bed.  
  
Duncan followed her into the living room. Richie wasn't in any of his favorite hiding places. He was easy to spot behind the plant in the corner and under the glass coffee table. His other favorite spot was under the desk in the office, but the baby gates that blocked both doors out of the apartment were securely in place.  
  
"Shh," Duncan said suddenly, stopping Tessa's frantic rambling. Soon she could hear what he did, a jingling in their bedroom. They both raced into the room and found Richie staring dejectedly at the empty bed.  
  
"Richie!" Tessa snatched him into her arms and covered his face with kisses. He squirmed and tried to push her face away but she insisted. "Where were you?" she asked him once she finally stopped.  
  
"Tessa." Duncan came up behind her and pointed at the open bathroom door.  
  
She looked at him and smiled. "You think so?"  
  
"There's only one way to find out." Duncan went into the bathroom and turned on the light. In the toilet bowl was all the evidence they needed. "Put him down," Duncan told Tessa. She did. "Richie, did you flush?" Richie grinned and ran past him to flush. "Did you wash your hands?" Richie went over to the sink and looked at him over his shoulder. Duncan reached down and lifted him high enough to reach the fixtures. When he was done Duncan put him down and squatted so they were at eye level and then gave him a big hug. "Good job!" he told him proudly.  
  
Richie grinned and clapped then ran over to Tessa to get her praise as well. She gave him a hug. "You did a very good job!" she told him proudly. This had been the first time Richie went to the bathroom by himself.  
  
"I knew the crib was what was giving him a hard time. We need to get him a bed," Duncan said switching off the bathroom light.  
  
"That's right," Tessa told Richie. "You're ready for a big boy bed."  
  
Apparently the only words in that sentence Richie could understand were 'you' and 'bed' because he pulled himself up onto Duncan and Tessa's. He crawled under the covers and snuggled into the pillows. When Duncan and Tessa didn't immediately join him, he sat up and patted their pillows lovingly, inviting them to get in. Smiling they joined him and the three slept the rest of the night; Richie's bottom waggling the whole time.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Two days later Tessa called Duncan in from the store. When he asked what was wrong she grinned proudly at him and put her finger to her lips. She led him down the hall and stopped in Richie's doorway. Soft noises were coming from the room.  
  
"He's been babbling for five minutes straight," Tessa whispered.  
  
"He's talking!" Duncan whispered as excitedly as one can whisper.  
  
"He's trying to." Tessa was beaming. "And they thought he was mute," she scoffed. "He just wasn't ready yet. But we should still take him to the doctor, in case there is something wrong."  
  
"Of course," Duncan quickly agreed. "So has he said any words?"  
  
"None that I recognize. Where are you going?" she asked as Duncan moved to enter the room.  
  
"I'm going to talk to him and see if he can answer," he explained. "Hi, Richie," he greeted in a normal tone.  
  
"Ha!" came the high pitched reply. Tessa stifled a giggle.  
  
"What are you doing?" Duncan asked crouching next to the small drawing desk Richie was sitting at. "Are you coloring?"  
  
"Cala!" Richie showed off his latest creation; it slightly resembled a person with blonde hair.  
  
"Who's this?" Duncan asked pointing at the picture. Richie pointed to the doorway. "Is it Tessa?"  
  
"Te-sha!"  
  
"Duncan, he's talking!" Tessa fought the tears in her eyes. "He's really talking!"  
  
"Ha!" Richie waved at her.  
  
"Hi, sweetie," she answered walking into the room. "This is very sudden. What took you so long?" Richie ignored her question and showed her his picture. "Oh, this is very good. Is it me?"  
  
"Te-sha!" Whenever Richie spoke, he spoke loudly. Neither Tessa nor Duncan minded.  
  
"Can you draw Duncan?" she asked handing him a new sheet of paper.  
  
"Dum-ba?" Richie asked.  
  
"Yes, Duncan. Can you draw him?"  
  
Richie set to his task and a few scribbles later he presented his picture of Duncan.  
  
"Oh, this is even better," Tessa praised handing the picture to Duncan. "You do very good work. We should put these up." Having settled nicely into their rolls as parents, Duncan and Tessa had decided to put the pictures on the refrigerator. After ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the pictures some more they sat Richie down to discover the extent of his sudden vocabulary.  
  
"What's your name?" Duncan asked him.  
  
"Can you say Richie?" Tessa prompted when he didn't answer.  
  
"Ishi!" he promptly repeated.  
  
"And who's this?" She pointed to his ever present stuffed animal.  
  
"Pooba!"  
  
"Can you say mommy?" she asked hopefully putting a hand on her chest.  
  
Richie cocked his head to one side. "Te-sha," he corrected her.  
  
"Mommy," she tried again.  
  
"Te-sha."  
  
"Say mom-my," she said. "Mom-my!" She clapped his hands together with each syllable.  
  
"Lol-ly!" Richie clapped on his own.  
  
"Very good!" She put a hand on her chest again. "Mommy."  
  
"Te-sha."  
  
Duncan laughed. "I think he's got his mind made up."  
  
"You try," she challenged.  
  
"Richie, can you say Daddy?"  
  
"Duh-duh."  
  
Duncan grinned at Tessa then put his hand on his chest mimicking her. "Daddy."  
  
"Dum-ba!" Richie said.  
  
"Daddy."  
  
"Dum-ba!"  
  
"No, I'm Daddy."  
  
"Dum-ba!" Richie insisted very pleased with the attention he was getting.  
  
"It's official, we've confused him," Duncan announced. "We should have been referring to each other as Mommy and Daddy not Tessa and Duncan."  
  
"So we start now," Tessa decided. "If he's just now started talking we can make him forget our names." She took Richie in her lap. "You stay with Daddy while Mommy makes lunch," she told him.  
  
Richie took Duncan by the hand stood up. "Kimisha Dum-ba!" he instructed yanking as hard as he could.  
  
"Say daddy," Duncan told him.  
  
"Duh-duh," Richie said tugging again. "Kimisha Dum-ba!"  
  
Tessa laughed. "He said it; you have to go with him now."  
  
Sighing Duncan stood up. "It was worth a try."  
  
Richie took Duncan into his room to play Hungry Hungry Hippo. Tessa made sandwiches for lunch. Richie kept up an incoherent, but steady, stream of conversation throughout the meal. When it was over he lay down on the couch to watch the Chipmunks, his favorite show, while Duncan and Tessa cleaned up the kitchen and discussed how handle their now talking child.  
  
"No more hand signals," Duncan decided. "We just say it. He catches on quickly; it shouldn't be a problem."  
  
"I knew we needed those baby monitors," Tessa mumbled happily. "How could those people jump to conclusions so quickly? They didn't give him a chance."  
  
"They have a lot of kids to look after," he reminded her. "We believed them."  
  
"They were supposed to know. look at that." She pointed to the living room. Richie was standing up bouncing to the Beatles song that the Chipmunks were singing. "He's dancing," she giggled.  
  
"Or at least he's trying to," Duncan agreed smiling himself.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Tessa double checked her math. For the life of her she couldn't get the checkbook to balance. Sighing, she started over adding and subtracting line after line. She glanced up briefly and saw Richie was still dancing to the music coming from the TV. He was currently doing his best to imitate the dancers in the old musical he was watching in his underwear. Ms. Perkins' prediction of him taking off his clothes had finally come to pass as the weather got warmer. Grinning she went back to the check book.  
  
A bump, crash, and scream jolted her out of her mathematical trance. She leapt up from her seat at the kitchen table and ran into the living room. She looked around and finally found Richie lying behind the couch screaming. She picked him up and took in a sharp breath. He had blood streaming out of his mouth and nose.  
  
"You're okay," she assured him quickly carrying him into the bathroom and putting him in the tub. She grabbed a couple towels and began to wipe the blood off his face, but it just kept coming. "Oh, my poor baby. What happened to you?" she asked softly. Richie just continued to wail, his shrill voice echoing in the tiled room. "It looks like you knocked a couple teeth out," she told him gently putting a small chunk of towel in his mouth. It helped catch the blood that was coming from his gums and lip and, more importantly, stifled his cries. Five minutes later he had stopped bleeding and had calmed down to only sniffles.  
  
"There you are," she said gently rocking him in her arms. "That had to have hurt." He had blood dried in his nostrils and would scream every time Tessa tried to clean it, so she left it for the time being. That combined with his red puffy eyes and pouting lips made for a rather pathetic looking child. "Can I see inside?" she asked gently tapping his chin. "Can you open up and say ah!" No response. "Will you smile for mommy? Show me your pretty teeth?" She wanted to check for any serious damage and get a count for how many teeth needed to be retrieved from the drying blood on the floor.  
  
"What happened?" Duncan's slightly panicked voice demanded twenty minutes later.  
  
"Richie had an accident," Tessa explained softly looking down at the sleeping boy in her arms. "He fell. Nearest I can tell, he tripped on the rug while he was dancing and hit his face on that windowsill." She inclined her head to one of the nearly floor length windows behind the couch. "He knocked out a couple teeth in the process."  
  
"How many exactly?"  
  
"Four."  
  
"Four?!"  
  
"The front four. Two top, two bottom."  
  
A few minutes after Duncan got the floor cleaned up and the teeth were found, Richie woke up.  
  
"Hey, tough guy," Duncan whispered in greeting. "Mommy told me you fell down. Does it still hurt?" Richie's bottom lip began to tremble and his nose crinkled. With a loud sniff he held his arms out for Duncan to take him. "Aw, come here, tough guy. You're okay."  
  
Tessa stood up and gratefully stretched her arms. She had been holding Richie for over half an hour.  
  
An hour and one pudding cup later Richie was perfectly okay and had discovered that he could stick his tongue through the gap in the front of his mouth. Duncan and Tessa chatted excitedly about the tooth fairy's visit and explained to him what he had to do in order for her to find his teeth. So that night after his bath Richie carefully put all four teeth under the pillow on his new race car bed before crawling in.  
  
"Did you go potty?" Duncan asked as he and Tessa tucked Richie in.  
  
"Ya," Richie answered.  
  
"Do you want Daddy to read you a story?"  
  
"Ya."  
  
"Say good-night to Mommy."  
  
"Guni Te-sha."  
  
"Good night, Richie." She gave him a soft kiss and straightened his sheet one last time before leaving the room. Bed time stories were Duncan's specialty.  
  
"Why don't we just give him a dollar bill?" Duncan asked two hours later as he and Tessa got ready for bed.  
  
"Because four is more than one," she explained handing him the four shiny quarters she had cleaned after Richie went to bed.  
  
"It's the same amount."  
  
"He doesn't know that. He just knows four is more than one."  
  
The next morning Richie woke up before Duncan even got up to go on his morning run. He checked under his pillow first thing and found the four shiny quarters. With a wide, toothless grin he ran into Duncan and Tessa's room.  
  
"Lol-ly! Duh-duh!" he yelled excitedly climbing onto the bed. "Ake-uh!" he instructed as be began jumping up and down.  
  
"Where's the fire, tough guy?" Duncan yawned sitting up. Richie took a flying leap and landed in his lap. He proudly showed Duncan his new found wealth. "So the tooth fairy came," he acknowledged.  
  
"So she did," Tessa added. Noticing she was awake for the first time Richie thrust his palm out so she could get a better view. "But, Richie," her tone took on a stern quality. "It is too early to be awake." She tossed back her covers and got out of bed. She walked around and plucked him off Duncan's lap. "You should still be in bed. Say good night to Daddy."  
  
"Guni Duh-duh," he said glumly as Tessa took him back to his room.  
  
"Did he call us mommy and daddy?" Duncan asked when Tessa came back.  
  
"I think he said lolly and duhduh," she corrected.  
  
"That's as close as he can get right now," Duncan reminded her. "I think he finally cracked."  
  
Tessa smiled as she cuddled into him. "Maybe the doctor can find out what's wrong with him today." Their appointment was for 1:15 that afternoon. Duncan waited a few seconds and just as he expected she started crying. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I've just waited for so long to hear someone call me mommy." She sniffed. "I guess this all feels more final now."  
  
"I guess it does," he agreed as their door opened just wide enough for a four year old to get in. "What are you doing?" Duncan asked as he watched a head of blonde curls approach the bed.  
  
"Pooba," Richie told him crawling onto the bed to retrieve the stuffed animal. Once the bear was safely in his possession he sat on the edge of the bed and waited to be invited under the covers.  
  
Taking the silent cue Duncan pulled back the covers in-between himself and Tessa. "Come on in." Once again showing off his lack of teeth Richie crawled in and settled down on his stomach, one arm around Pooh Bear, two fingers in his mouth and butt waggling.  
  
"What do you say?" Tessa asked him.  
  
"Tai-ooh," Richie answered softly.  
  
"Very good." She settled into her pillow with one arm around Richie. Duncan rolled onto his side and kissed them both before putting his arm around both of them. They all fell asleep comfortably in each other's arms. 


	4. Reality part 2

Duncan woke up with a soft groan. He opened his eyes and smiled at Tessa still asleep in his arms. He reached to ruffle Richie's hair and found the bed between them empty. Smiling, he got out of bed and went to wait outside the bathroom to once again praise the boy for going to the bathroom on his own. After a couple minutes of waiting, he opened the door a crack and then all the way. Richie was nowhere to be found.  
  
"Tessa!"  
  
"What?" she jerked awake.  
  
"Where's Richie?"  
  
Tessa sighed and lay back down. "Probably in his room asleep."  
  
"But he slept with us last night," Duncan protested. "Remember? The tooth fairy, he got all excited and decided he wanted to sleep in here?"  
  
Tessa smiled and sat up again. "Are you feeling alright? First Richie gets amnesia and now this? I don't know how much more I can handle."  
  
"Amnesia?" Duncan repeated. "He fell behind the couch and knocked out a couple teeth he didn't. he's eighteen," he realized as reality set in.  
  
"Nearly nineteen," she added. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah, I just had a strange dream last night."  
  
"And in this dream Richie slept with us?"  
  
Duncan shook his head. "He was four," he explained. "I'm going to go check on him." Duncan didn't knock, just slowly opened the boy's door. Richie was wide awake and going through a pile of ticket stubs he had found. "Hey, tough guy. Couldn't sleep?"  
  
Richie looked up. "Um. not really. Did you go to any of these?" he asked holding up the tickets.  
  
Duncan walked over to the bed and looked at the concert ticket stubs. "No. You went with your friends."  
  
"Dang, I was hoping you could tell me about them."  
  
"I bet you have a lot of questions."  
  
"Yeah," Richie admitted scooting away when Duncan sat on the edge of the bed.  
  
"Why don't you ask some of them," Duncan suggested. "You never know what will help."  
  
Richie thought for a minute. "How would you describe me?" he asked. "Honestly."  
  
"Honestly?" Duncan repeated. Leave it to Richie to come up with the most awkward question to answer. "I think you're too impulsive for your own good. You let your emotions cloud your logic and you do the first thing that comes to mind," Duncan started. Richie looked down. "But what first comes to mind is almost always in someone else's best interest. You always want to help," he added noticing that his first statement came off as harsh. "You have a very big heart, you're very caring, you're always willing to lend a hand, you're invaluable. and the only thing you do more than talk is eat."  
  
Richie smirked and chuckled lightly. "I did notice that I tend to be hungry a lot. How did we meet? I know you're not my dad, and you didn't know him. Am I adopted?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then what am I doing here?"  
  
Duncan took a deep breath. "You broke into our store. You saw something that night."  
  
"So I'm here so you can keep me quiet?"  
  
"No, I didn't file any charges against you, in exchange for you not saying anything. You moved in later because I found you."  
  
"You found me?"  
  
Duncan took another deep breath and put his hand on Richie's shoulder. "I think that's something you should remember on your own. You don't like to talk about it."  
  
"Did my parents kick me out?" Richie asked softly. "Did I do something wrong?"  
  
"No, Richie you didn't do anything wrong. Richie, you're an orphan," Duncan explained. "You ran away from a foster home when I found you. That's all."  
  
"I thought so," Richie mumbled.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"I just had a feeling, that's all."  
  
"Do have any more feelings?"  
  
Slowly Richie shook his head. "No. well I feel."  
  
"What?" Duncan asked excitedly.  
  
"Hungry," Richie answered with a smile. "When's breakfast?"  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Duncan looked across the table at Richie who was happily eating every pancake Tessa put in front of him. He couldn't shake the image of the smaller version of Richie that he had dreamed sat in that chair.  
  
"What?" Richie asked looking up from his plate and meeting his gaze.  
  
"Sorry," Duncan apologized. "I just had a weird dream last night."  
  
Richie grinned. "Join the club."  
  
"What did you dream about?" Tessa asked.  
  
"It was really weird. Probably some movie I saw and don't remember."  
  
"You never know it might be something real," Duncan prompted.  
  
"Nah, it was way out there. We're talking sci-fi channel material here."  
  
"Okay, but you never know," Tessa told him. "Are you still hungry? I can make some more if you like."  
  
"No, I'm good for now. Thanks though."  
  
They all pitched in to clean up the kitchen. Richie easily put all the dishes away without asking where they went. When asked how he knew, he just shrugged and said he just did.  
  
After cleaning up Duncan decided to entice Richie with the one thing he wasn't allowed to touch but couldn't keep his hands off. He got his katana out of his room and went into Tessa's workshop to sharpen the blade and clean it. Richie was so busy wondering around the apartment, Tessa had to come up with a stupid question for him to go ask Duncan.  
  
"Hey, Duncan?" Richie asked eying the sword and keeping his distance.  
  
"Yeah, Rich?"  
  
"Tessa wants to know if Mr. Paterson delivered her order yet."  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Oh, alright then," Tessa said from the doorway. She had gotten Richie out to Duncan, now it was up to Duncan to try out his idea. Richie turned to follow her back into the apartment but Duncan stopped him.  
  
"You want to help?" he offered.  
  
Richie turned back around and looked at the sword. "I don't. I don't think I'm supposed to touch that," he said awkwardly.  
  
Duncan smiled. "You do anyway," he told him. "And as long as I'm here, I don't see the harm in it. Go ahead, take it," he urged, handing the sword hilt first to Richie.  
  
Richie looked at him in slight awe as he took the weapon. "Wow, this thing is cool."  
  
"It's a katana."  
  
"Sounds Chinese," Richie told him stepping back so he could hold the sword out at full length in front of him.  
  
"Japanese," Duncan corrected. "I got it a very long time ago from a friend."  
  
"Do you know how to use it?"  
  
Duncan smiled. "Yes. a little."  
  
"If I'm not supposed to touch this, how come I do anyway?" Richie asked stepping back further and swinging the blade through the air.  
  
"Careful, that's a live blade," Duncan warned. "Because that's the way you are. If you want to do something you do it. Nobody can stop you."  
  
"Sounds like I get in trouble a lot."  
  
"More than most," he agreed. "But you behave when it comes to the important stuff."  
  
"Like fancy parties and junk?"  
  
"Fancy parties?" Duncan repeated.  
  
"I saw the suit and tux in my closet," Richie explained.  
  
"Well, you tend to behave at those, but I was talking about important things. One of your friends got mixed up with drugs once and you lectured her better than I ever would. You go to parties and don't drink, despite what your friends say. You've kept yourself relatively clean compared to most people in your position."  
  
"In my position? What's that supposed to mean?" Richie stopped playing with the sword and looked at Duncan.  
  
"You had a bit of a rough start, that's all. But you're a clean kid now."  
  
"Rough start? Duncan, just tell me. What happed to me?"  
  
"Richie, I don't know. You know how I said you don't like to talk about how you came to stay with us? You don't talk about it at all. I barely know anything about you. You let us know what you want us to know and other than that, you're a mystery. If I had more to tell you, I would. But as this stands, we're on the same page. You know everything we know."  
  
"Great! Just great!" Richie exploded suddenly. "So this is as far as I can get? Just random impulses telling me where stuff goes and vague feelings about myself. This is perfect!"  
  
"Richie, would you stop swinging my sword around, you're going to hurt somebody," Duncan told him reaching to take the weapon.  
  
"Maybe I can hit myself upside the head again and remember everything!" Richie continued fuming even as he handed over the katana. "This is hopeless!"  
  
"It's not hopeless; we just haven't found anything to spark your memory with yet."  
  
"That's why you gave me the sword," Richie realized. "That's supposed to mean something to me, isn't it?"  
  
"I was hoping it would make you remember something that happened. Richie, I think your dream was more than just a dream. I think it was a memory."  
  
"Memory? I told you it was totally strange. It had to have been a movie I watched or something."  
  
"Or not. Did it involve swords?" Duncan asked holding up the katana.  
  
"Yeah." Richie answered slowly.  
  
"And then I gave you mine to play with and that didn't spark anything?"  
  
"No. God, I'm such an idiot!" Richie slammed his fist on the work bench. "There it all is staring me in the face and I can't put anything together!"  
  
"You will, Rich. Just take your time."  
  
"I don't want to take my time," Richie told him. "I don't like this, Duncan. If I could remember, I'd be positive I've never been so scared before. Not even when. when."  
  
"When what?"  
  
"I don't know!"  
  
"You will. Sometimes dreams tell us more than we're willing to hear. You just have to listen." Duncan trailed off. "Rich, why don't you go talk to Tessa. See if she has anything to tell you about. I think I have an idea."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"You don't like cameras," Tessa told Richie as they flipped through a photo album. "But I manage to get you into a shot every now and then."  
  
"Whoa, is that me in Paris?" Richie asked suddenly.  
  
"Yes. We went there last summer."  
  
"Do I speak French?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Say something." Richie told her. Tessa rattled off a few simple sentences. "I understood that!" he announced. "Where else have I been?"  
  
"Amsterdam, Niagara Falls, and California."  
  
"Wish I could remember them. Sounds like I've had some decent vacations."  
  
"I think I know how to make you remember," Duncan announced from the doorway of the apartment.  
  
"Duncan, where did you go?" Tessa asked.  
  
"The orphanage," he explained holding up a video tape.  
  
"Looks like you went to Blockbuster," Richie told him.  
  
"I've been thinking. Telling you about what just happened isn't helping at all. Maybe hearing about when you were young would help."  
  
"But you said you don't know anything about me before I moved in with you guys," Richie frowned.  
  
"That's where the orphanage comes in. Remember I told you dreams can tell us things if we're willing to listen?"  
  
"Yeah, that was like a couple hours ago, of course I remember that."  
  
"And I said I had a weird dream last night."  
  
"Yes," Tessa agreed. "You were talking about Richie."  
  
"When he was four," Duncan added. "At the orphanage."  
  
"You had a dream about me? Creepy."  
  
"Richie, the point is my dream told me something. I remembered a detail and played a hunch. That's how I got this." He held the tape up again.  
  
"I don't get it," Richie said.  
  
"At the orphanage you went to, they made tapes of all the kids so prospective parents could look through them."  
  
"And you got a hold of Richie's?" Tessa asked.  
  
"It took some doing, but yes." Duncan put the tape in. "Keep your fingers crossed." He hit play.  
  
There were a few seconds of static and then a seemingly new born appeared on the screen.  
  
"That's me?" Richie asked.  
  
"You're adorable," Tessa breathed.  
  
There was a short commentary. "New born boy, un-named. Quiet by nature and has a good temperament. Bright and enthusiastic. Available for foster care."  
  
The screen went back to static.  
  
"That was helpful," Richie grumbled.  
  
"There should be more, just hang on," Duncan told him.  
  
A few seconds later there was a four year old boy with curly hair and big blue eyes lying in a crib holding onto a stuffed Winnie the Pooh. The commentary started again. "Richie Ryan, age four. Playful and fun loving." The screen flashed to Richie sitting in a cafeteria with a hot dog in front of him and his bear in his lap. "Healthy appetite and not a picky eater." Richie in the play room dancing with some other kids to a tape of children's songs. "Energetic and sociable."  
  
"It sounds like they're trying to get people to adopt a puppy," eighteen- year-old Richie complained.  
  
The screen changed to Richie sitting in the lap of a social worker in front of the camera.  
  
"How old are you, Richie?" the worker asked. Richie proudly held up four fingers to the camera. "Do you like to play?" Richie grinned widely and nodded. "Are you ready to go to school?" Richie nodded again. The camera zoomed in on Richie who had switched his attention to his bear as the social worker continued to talk. "Richie Ryan is a special needs child. He is mute and has a difficult time understanding some things that are said to him. Despite this, he efficiently communicates with others. He is also being taught sign language. A home where he would be the only child is ideal because he requires more attention than most children."  
  
Tessa looked at Richie who was staring blankly at the television screen. "Are you okay? Do you want to turn it off?" Richie shook his head.  
  
Static then, "Richie Ryan, age seven. A playful and percousious young boy with a love for adventure. Richie is in first grade and makes good grades. He doesn't like to socialize outside of school and prefers to spend his time drawing and playing board games." It switched to the interview. Richie was sitting at a small table coloring and the social worker was seated across from him.  
  
"How old are you, Richie?"  
  
"Seban."  
  
"What grade are you in?"  
  
"Forst."  
  
"What do you like to do?"  
  
"Colar."  
  
"Who do you like to play with?"  
  
"Pooba."  
  
"Who's that?" In response Richie held up the bear that had been sitting out of view. "What about your friends? Do you like to play with Bryan and Jacob?" Richie shook his head. "Why not?" the social worker asked signaling for the video to be cut off.  
  
"Tha'r mean," was heard just before the video stopped.  
  
"Richie, are you okay?" Tessa asked going to the teen's side. His face was pale and his breathing was shallow.  
  
"Richie Ryan, age twelve."  
  
"Duncan, stop the video," Tessa ordered. "Richie, are you feeling okay?" she asked stroking his cheek.  
  
"Just give me a minute," Richie mumbled getting up and retreating into his room.  
  
"Do you think it worked?" she asked staring at the closed door.  
  
"I think so," Duncan said, staring as well.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Two hours later Duncan and Tessa were making another one of Richie's favorites for dinner when the teen entered the kitchen.  
  
"Are you okay, Rich?" Duncan asked.  
  
"I'm fine, Mac. I have good news and bad news."  
  
"What's the matter?" Tessa asked dropping the potato masher in the potatoes.  
  
"The good news is I remember everything."  
  
"The bad news?" Duncan asked.  
  
"I remember everything."  
  
"So the video did it?" Tessa asked putting her arm around his shoulders and stroking his cheek.  
  
"Actually it was something on the video," Richie admitted with a blush.  
  
"What was it?"  
  
Richie blushed harder. "Promise not to laugh?"  
  
"At what?"  
  
Slowly Richie brought his hand out from behind his back with a beat up, dirty and faded Winnie the Pooh clutched tightly in his fist.  
  
"Oh!" Tessa covered her mouth with one hand to hide her smile.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Richie grumbled. "Yuck it up. Richie Ryan still has his teddy bear."  
  
"But it's because of Pooba you remember," Duncan told him as if talking to a three year old.  
  
"Okay, fine, see if I ever tell you people anything again." Richie turned on his heel.  
  
"Rich, I'm sorry," Duncan apologized grabbing his arm. "Tell us what happened."  
  
"I saw him on the screen and I knew I had seen him before. The more I thought about it I realized that I had seen it the night before when I was looking through my room."  
  
"I can't believe you still have it," Tessa giggled taking the bear from him. "You don't seem the type."  
  
"It was the only thing I could keep," Richie shrugged. "Emily gave it to me first thing when Mark took me to her house."  
  
"Who's Mark?" Tessa asked.  
  
"He was my social worker for a long time. He's a teacher now at a school for deaf kids. He's the one who told me Emily gave me the bear; obviously I was too young to remember."  
  
"Speaking of deaf." Tessa started. "What's this about you being mute? The Richie Ryan I know doesn't ever shut up."  
  
"I don't really know," Richie admitted sitting at the table. "Something about. my ears were blocked somehow so I didn't hear right. I didn't start talking until I was almost five and even then it was jibber jabber. One of my foster dads was an ear nose and throat doctor and he figured it out. So I had some minor surgery and that fixed everything."  
  
"Oh, so then you were good as new?"  
  
"Not really, I still had to learn how to talk. The kids made fun of me all the time for it. That's why I didn't like to play with Bryan and Jacob. I talked like a little kid; they thought it was hilarious. 'Baby Richie' that was me."  
  
"And the teachers at the orphanage let them call you that?" Duncan asked sitting as well.  
  
"Oh, they didn't say it in front of the teachers," Richie told him. "And if they were ever overheard they just said they were joking."  
  
"Why didn't you tell on them?" Tessa asked.  
  
Richie snorted. "That would'a helped. Then I would have been 'Baby Richie, the Tattle-Tail'. It's no big deal, I got them back."  
  
"I'm afraid to ask," Tessa smiled.  
  
"I'm not; what did you do?" Duncan asked.  
  
"Kicked their butts in high school, stole their lunch money without them noticing, took their homework out of their lockers. the usual stuff," he smiled.  
  
"You're horrible!" Duncan laughed.  
  
"They deserved it for making my elementary school and junior high years hell. I spent as much time in lockers as I did in class!" Richie defended.  
  
"You got shoved into lockers?" Tessa didn't believe it.  
  
"Yeah, pathetic, I know. But the foster dad I was with my eighth grade year taught me to fight. Everything was different after that. I became the shover, not the shovie."  
  
"You were bullied so you became the bullie," Duncan said.  
  
"Basically," Richie shrugged. "It was the only way to keep them from picking on me. First day of high school, I got them all put in their places before the first bell rang."  
  
"Richie!" Tessa scolded.  
  
"Hey, they tortured me for something I had no control over for ten years! I got them back for four. I still don't think we're even but I let it go."  
  
"True. And if you start it up again, you have to answer to me," Duncan reminded him. "What all did they do to you?"  
  
Richie shrugged. "Just made fun of me in elementary school. You know they had little chants and songs that they taught everyone and they would follow me around on the playground singing them. That type of thing. I hated it. Once I made the mistake of crying. they never let me forget that one."  
  
"Cry Baby Richie?" Duncan guessed.  
  
"Cryin' Ryan," Richie corrected with a hint of bitterness. "That one followed me around for awhile."  
  
"You were always in the same schools with these boys?" Tessa asked.  
  
"Yup. Because we all went to the same orphanage, we all were given to foster parents in the same area and ended up at the same schools . When they went back to the orphanage I thought I had it made 'cause if you lived there, you went to school there. but by then everyone knew the songs and didn't need them to lead 'em."  
  
"And in junior high?" Duncan asked.  
  
"They would gang up on me. Steal my lunch money, throw my books in the mud, shove me in lockers. I still know how to pick the locks of those things from the inside. and of course they would tell everyone what a baby I was and how I cried every night and slept with a nightlight and a teddy bear."  
  
"Did you?"  
  
"I slept without a night light before they did just to prove I was bigger than them. And I stopped sleeping with Pooba when I was eight and just kept him under my bed in a shoe box. Not that the truth mattered to them. By then the whole school thought I was the biggest looser on the face of the planet. What's for dinner?" he asked suddenly.  
  
"Steak and potatoes," Tessa told him.  
  
"How long?"  
  
"Fifteen minutes. Maybe faster if you tell us some stories," she hinted.  
  
Richie sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Do you want stories of when they tortured me or when I tortured them?"  
  
"Both," she decided.  
  
"I want to know the songs they made up about you," Duncan told him.  
  
"They weren't that great. Stuff like: 'Richie Ryan's a baby, he's cries just like a lady, waaa, waaa, he's such a dork'." He sang to the tune of 'Ring around the Rosie'.  
  
"That's horrible!" Tessa said as she went back to mashing potatoes.  
  
"That was one of their less creative ones."  
  
"What else did they say about you?"  
  
"I honestly don't remember. It took me a long time to push them out of my mind and I'd like to keep them there."  
  
All throughout dinner Richie told stories of hiding in the library at recess and eating lunch alone in the bathroom to avoid any torture. Tessa pitied him openly even though he assured her he was way over it. To change her mind he told stories of buying nothing but desserts at lunch in high school and eating them in front of the boys he had taken the money from, writing fake secret admirer notes and dropping clues as to who was writing them and getting the freshman boys to think that a senior girl liked them. He even got Jacob to ask out the football captain's girlfriend. After cleaning up the dinner dishes, Richie announced he was going to bed and would see them in the morning.  
  
"Hey, Rich?" Duncan asked softly opening the boy's door ten minutes after he went to bed.  
  
"Hmmm?" Richie asked not sitting up.  
  
"How come you told us so much tonight?"  
  
Richie rolled over to face him. "Because now I know what it's like to not know. I figured I should let you in on some stuff."  
  
"Oh. Good night, Rich."  
  
"Night, Mac." Richie rolled back onto his stomach and waited for sleep to come. Slowly his eyes closed and two fingers came to rest against his lips. Richie fell into a deep sleep for the entire night, his butt waggling slightly the entire time.  
  
AN: That's it you guys! Hope you liked it. Please review. And let me know if you liked baby Richie. maybe all this wasn't a dream. 


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